This city sticks, each rock and coal,
to the pulsing suck of a humming hole.
In the shadows a woman speaks.
Each word laboring; each word heaves
the wet head of emerging night.
My footprints drive to the blood of fire.
This evening curls as incense blossoms blue
through the flames last gasp
and the moon's brandishing shaft of light.
My heart beats an animal skin.
streaked in soot rise
like spokes of flaming chaos.
The dead, the dead, the dead,
they are the consequence of everything.